(This was the recessional song for young Tyler’s funeral. That whole experience was incredibly moving. We hadn’t been in touch for a while as he had moved away. His Dad shared the story that a couple of weeks before his accident, his girlfriend had a dream that he died. She was, of course, really upset by it and discussed it with Tyler. He talked about what he would want if it actually happened. One of the things that came out was that he wanted to be an organ donor. So as of that morning, his Dad informed everyone during his tribute, that two men had been saved by his kidneys…)

I was planning to write the best poem in the history of the known universe tonight, naturally, right? {*life goals*. This point made even more credible and significant by these squiggly brackets.}
Then I started drinking this rum and coke and it seems the poem fell into the glass {because, where else would it be?}
I thought I could drink down to it. Turns out, I am still kind of naive about a few things…

Oh, and I have been preoccupied thinking about a funeral my husband will be conducting tomorrow, for a popular member of this community, who was only 20.
(He was on his dirt bike, competing, when his bike stalled, mid air.)
It’s going to be a huge funeral.

There’s a lot going on right now, it seems (- Captain Obvious.)
So I did what any normal human would do when slapped in the face with all angles sharpened on profundity: I started going through my Facebook page.
I’m not on there as much as I used to be, and it was delightful to find this post. I thought I would share it. Because, there are some amazing people in this world. I am beyond grateful that I know some of them. And is there a greater gift than people who just get you? And that we are all in this together?

’13 August 2016 · Is beginning to wonder about my reputation …last night as I arrived at our church quiz night, and at our Monday evening bible study, the first thing I hear is, “You’re here! We didn’t want to start drinking till you got here…” (Wait, did I say I was worried about my reputation…that moment has passed 😉 )’

So I was merrily going my way along WordPress today, and then I saw a quote, (egads I hear you say)… it reminded me of something that had been on my mind, but wasn’t sure I should divulge.

I live, mostly, in a general state of bewilderment, and it has been such a wonderful surprise to discover the amount of other people on WP in such a state. I feel like we should be stretching out a big picnic blanket and then oohing and aahing over all of the somewhat disgustingly interesting food we would bring out of our baskets. (Just a forewarning…my food will be a perfect candidate for those “Nailed It” comparison posts on social media I never get sick of.) Plus, you will have to be patient with me as I fight urges to hug everyone, which I do constantly when I read your gut wrenching, devastatingly glorious writing.But I think I am digressing, I’m not sure.

So, darn, I can’t remember what this post was going to be about… Hopefully this very motivating link will remind me:Poetic Motivations at Davy D’s blog. (Thanks again Davy.)

Oh yes, whenever I read interesting things about different writers and they start listing their favourite writers and influences, I am reminded of what a vast, empty space my mind can be, with maybe a cute kitten bumbling through every now and then. (Or maybe it’s a very small space, overcrowded by cute kittens, distracting me from not so cute things)…And also because my memory is awful.

Don’t get me wrong, I love to read. It’s just that I have so much trouble focussing, that I honestly haven’t done it very much in recent years. (Plus, any reading I have done has been theological by some rather brilliant friends.) So, I have been rather embarrassed about my neglect, but this quote reminded me of why I have more recently decided that I won’t be. Plus, it was never my goal to sound or read like anyone else.

Ugh, where am I going with this?

I think I have actually found a point…I am more than profoundly moved and inspired by the talent on WordPress. What a wonderfully therapeutic experience it has been. I am so grateful. Plus, you have reminded me of things that were buried, very deeply.

And to my remarkable parents, who are well educated and just plain intelligent.

And I am grateful to an old friend who planted the seed for me to start blogging in the first place. He doesn’t think I should give him any credit. (Maybe it’s because he has read my stuff hahaha.) But I am grateful to him more than I can ever say. In fact, through all of the years I have known him, he has busted out a few insightful things that have really helped me. He most likely doesn’t even remember. It doesn’t matter.

Anyway, I know I have said this before, but thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

Every way she listened, there were endings.
This weight of pretense had to be shifted.
It was time to chord change them out of the cliché, and even though his music always made her dance, his shadows were not hers.

So she did what he didn’t expect. She brought the pig’s heart.
And they drank the wine…

I have some health issues that need tending to, and like a lot of people, it has been easy to neglect taking care of myself for a while now.
But I really have to.
So I am not going to be stalking all of you beloved WP talents as much as I normally would. And that’s A LOT. And I have done it unapologetically, because, quite frankly, you are amazing. And inspiring. And I cannot put into words how you have enhanced my life. So, thank you. From the deepest, and sometimes, weirdest, recesses of my heart 😛

I need to be spending some serious time “dancing” with my in-the-flesh life. I am trying to live by these wise guidelines, and I thought I would share them 😉

pebbles in knees blood drips in degrees depending on motion and height of the trees in ways so undaunting and friendships unhaunting we packed up our bags and rode from the taunting within our own mind we pedalled the wind and the twist of the road from siblings unkind

golden the handshakes we never knew everyone did it so we did not too the secrets unfolded then refolded wrong and how we laughed later when hearing that song and promises broken before they were made the pastor’s son kindly spiked lemonade but we did ask nicely and he knew us from… a minor detail and life moved along and dancing all night our friendship stayed strong…

Wow.
This was so not like the other door she had opened. This was better.
She had never appreciated their persuasiveness as much as she did now. She made a mental note to thank them after the recording.
Seriously.
Best game show ever.

She heard them! The chords of cogency. Crescendoing. Pulsating with hermeneutical harmonies that filled her with a sensation she hadn’t felt in years. The clarity descending in notes that burst her heart.
Her heart. That’s what she could feel!

She was right to leave.
And she didn’t just walk. She floated. On the weightless tears of Another.
He turned her back, from face down, and she left forever.
Right out of that grave.

It was the first time she had come back to his space. They walked into the room where he didn’t do much living and he showed her the place. On the wall. Where he strung up the different shades of pathos.
In the right order, of course.

She was more impressed than she thought she would be.
And now she was scared.
Scared that he knew right where to put her.

Confused by the vapid voices of renewal that languided out of the new year cake,they did used to jump, she recalled,
she thought it was time to do something.
Something had to be done with this pile of the unsaid.

She searched for that wisdom file, the one they’d all spilt wine on at the new year’s eve party. How they laughed. Such a good night.

She wondered if she should rake through those coals over there. Some were still smoldering.

Melancholied by the cold she had a better idea.
As she cast the pile onto her knitting needles, she was struck by how colourful it was…